


Defying Gravity

by Nicky_Gabriel



Category: Andromeda, Starsky & Hutch
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicky_Gabriel/pseuds/Nicky_Gabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a zine story, published in Timeless 3 last year.<br/>http://fanlore.org/wiki/Timeless_%28Starsky_and_Hutch_zine%29</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defying Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Flamingo and Keri for the encouragement when I was writing this AU, for editing the story for me and most of all for publishing it in one of the best zines in this fandom. There are not many people who believed in me as they did and for that I will be eternally grateful! ♥  
> Now they were so kind and said that I could publish the edited version online, so here it is :)
> 
> ~ * ~
> 
> Editors’ Note: Defying Gravity is based on the science fiction TV series, Andromeda. Set thousands of years in the future, the show revolves around the Systems Commonwealth, a constitutional monarchy based in the star system Tarn-Vedra, and defended by a huge armada called the High Guard. Based in the three galaxies, Commonwealth ships travel from one to the other through slipstream, pre-guided pathways. The Commonwealth is at war with the Magog, a bat-like warrior humanoid species. Humans have been part of the Commonwealth for thousands of years.
> 
> Among Commonwealth members are the genetically engineered Nietzscheans, superior humans who believe in genetic engineering and intense competition. Drago Museveni, the clone of a renegade Earth geneticist, created the Nietzscheans thousands of years ago. They evolved into a separate subspecies (Homo sapiens invictus) that colonized many worlds. With three “bone blades” jutting from each forearm and superior strength and abilities, they see themselves as the “Übermensch” described by Friedrich Nietzsche.
> 
> Humans are about 70 percent of the Known Worlds population. Subspecies with minor genetics enhancements are common. There are living avatars; some are manifestations of the artificial intelligence of ships, and some are avatars of Suns and Moons, humanoid forms of celestial beings with great powers. Immortal and able to travel through time and space, they can affect events and people at will.

 

 

 **Defying Gravity**

 **by Nicky Gabriel**

 

 _“To lose is to be proven inferior. If I’m inferior, my genes are suspect, and no Nietzschean female will choose me. If no Nietzschean females will choose me, I can’t reproduce. Then, when I die, my genes die. But if I win, that indicates my genes must be good. I get chosen by more females. And the more I get chosen, the more I pass on my genes. The more my genes get passed on, the more of me lives, eternally. To a Nietzschean, a game is never just a game._

 _There is no magic, just science you don’t understand. You may feel intensely attracted to your fiancée. You may feel pleasure when you breed, but this isn’t magic. Your DNA has evolved this way so you’ll reproduce. Nietzscheans know this explicitly. That is why the most important thing a Nietzschean female can give her chosen male is the double helix. It represents the male and female’s DNA, now bound together by metal. It confers the most honored titles a Nietzschean male can hold – husband and father. You see, it’s not that we don’t love, it’s better. Because everything we do furthers our reproduction. Everything in our lives is an intense, sexually charged negotiation.”_

 **Gaheris Rhade, Executive Officer of the ship _Andromeda Ascendant_ (From the TV series Andromeda, Double Helix)**

 

Starsky was sitting by the window where the scenery was particularly interesting – from where his ship was moored, he could watch the whole space station below – but all I was interested in was the trademark-Starsky-stubbornness on his face. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he looked up at me briefly when I entered. Of course, he noticed the bruise on my cheek but didn’t comment. There was hurt and betrayal in his eyes, but hidden much deeper I sensed fear – the emotion I was most concerned about. The emotion was visible only because I knew him better than anybody else and he let me see it. That kind of trust went farther than anything I have ever experienced in my entire life and it still amazed me.

In my world, it wasn’t natural to show such vulnerability. But he wasn’t part of my world, and I was glad he let me be part of _his_ world instead.

“Starsky, I know you’ve done it before,” I said, standing at the door leading to his large and neatly furnished quarters. He was the best pilot at sailing the Slipstream--the pre-guided roller coaster-like pathways that traveled through the cosmos and between galaxies--and had been even before we met. These days, there were so many after his services, he could have afforded a ship worthy of the Commonwealth Honor Guard if he wanted.

“So what if I’ve done it before?” Starsky didn’t move or turn his head to look at me. “It doesn’t mean I gotta do it again. Especially not for you.” He put stress on the “not for you.”

“No, it doesn’t mean you have to do it again,” I admitted. “I _can_ find another pilot.” I knew I’d blown it before I even finished the sentence.

He stared up at me coldly and nodded once. “Of course you can, Hutchinson.” He went back to contemplating the view.

Starsky was dangerous when he was angry, but he was more dangerous when he was hurt, and I was one of the few who _could_ hurt him. Slowly, I made my way to where he was resting and sat in front of him. Close enough to touch--but I didn’t dare do that right now. Even I wasn’t so stupid that I’d risk his wrath.

So, I waited for him to get accustomed to my presence. I was sure I was the last person he wanted to deal with at that moment.

Only when his breathing evened out and I sensed he’d accepted my disturbing his privacy, did I finally sigh in exasperation. “Starsky, why are you so defensive?” I reached out and gently stroked the denim-clad knee nearest me, trying to calm him even more. “What difference does it make who you take there?”

He didn’t move, but his jaw tightened and I could hear his heart rate accelerate, which showed me how tense he was. Long ago, he’d learned to read me even without having the Nietzschean sharp senses I had. The three bone blades on my forearms were not the only dissimilarity between us.

“What difference does it make?” He seemed taken aback. “Hutch, every other idiot I ever brought there died in that cave! I don’t want you to be the next one!”

“What?” In the last fifteen years, I’d read anything I could find about the legend of the _Methuselah’s Gift_ – the stone created in the core of a star – but never bothered to ask details of the only pilot to ever take people to find it. And who happened to be my best friend, to be precise, for most of these fifteen years.

Starsky turned to me. I could see he was really scared. “Nobody ever came back, Hutch,” he said softly.

He was dangerous when he was angry, though the only weapon he’s ever used against me was his love. After all, that always assured him victory. I knew he realized how important his help would be for me, so I had to at least try to explain my motives. He deserved more than that, but I couldn’t give him more, since I was still trying to figure it out myself. All I knew was that finding that stone would be the only way for me to live. The only way for me to survive. I _had_ to try to find it – even though I was scared to death of what I would have to face.

“I won’t die,” I said struggling to sound as convinced as I felt. I _knew_ finding that stone was the right thing to do. I just knew it!

 _So why does it feel so **wrong** , Hutchinson?_

“Hutch, you can’t imagine who those people were, how smart, how capable – yet nobody ever left that cave alive! There were Humans, androids, Nietzschean princes, even Vedran soldiers!” Starsky shook his head. “Don’t make me do it!”

“You know that life isn’t just about living.” He was the one who taught me that; I felt obliged to remind him.

“Look who’s talking,” he said sarcastically, but I also saw the light in his eyes. He knew he was winning.

“I can find another pilot,” I said again.

“Yes, you can.” He was the most stubborn Human I have ever met. He knew I was trying to blackmail him, and he used it anyway. We both knew the real reason why he didn’t want to help me.

“But I won’t,” I whispered. I would give up anything – even my love for the stars – for him. “I want _you_ to take me there. _You_. Nobody else. Please?” I also could be a manipulative bastard if needed. I had some really good teachers back on my home world. Who better than your own family to teach you how to win?

“No.” Starsky held my gaze, unyielding.

I wanted to be angry with him for denying me my greatest dream, but how could I be mad at someone who loved me so much? He kept looking at me tensely.

“I won’t die.” I gave in and stood up. That was the only thing I was still sure of. “Good night, Starsk.”

I went to my quarters feeling his gaze on my back. Every step took me further from the dream my grandfather had instilled in me when I was old enough to understand what immortality meant to Nietzscheans.

Sometimes I hated being a Nietzschean.

*

Hours later, I was lying in my bed trying to sleep, still sore from the fight in the bar at the space station where I had tried to save the “virtue” of a well-known hooker. I was almost asleep when I heard the tap on the door. I thought it was Sweet Alice. She was the damsel in distress, whose offer I had turned down when Starsky and I finished with the creeps bothering her. I was seriously considering accepting her suggestion this time. I couldn't remember when I'd last spent a night with a woman.

Then Starsky came in. He leaned against the door, watching me with an intense and sorrowful look. I could feel his tension from across the room as he came closer and sat on the edge of my bed.

He wasn’t angry anymore. I don’t know how long we stayed like that – just looking at each other, waiting. I had no idea anymore what we were waiting for. A long time ago, I stopped hiding my feelings from him; it was a way to pretend, to distract him more than he already was, that he had a Nietzschean for a best friend. Everything that I felt was in plain view for him.

Being a Homo Sapiens Invictus (as all Nietzscheans were), had its advantages. We were a physically superior race, stronger and faster than Homo Sapiens Sapiens, which Starsky was. But Starsky was my partner. That meant _equal_. When I first realized that I _wanted_ to be in this partnership, I had to get past some of the differences between us. It took me a few months to realize we were not that different at all, and the ‘Invictus’ part in my species specification was nothing more than a meaningless word when compared to Starsky’s humanity.

We continued to sit in silence.

After a long while, Starsky reached out his hand and interlocked his fingers with mine. “You hurt anywhere else?” He examined the bruise on my cheek.

“Just sore,” I managed to say.

“Really?” He caressed the side of my face with the back of his other hand.

How could he be so gentle while ripping my heart out? He was taking away the only means I had to make my dream come true. “I’m fine,” I whispered.

“Hutch, we have to talk,” Starsky said emotionlessly.

“I know,” I said feeling suddenly weak and sore and hurt and... scared. My father would be terrified and disgusted knowing I _could_ feel fear, but I stopped caring what he thought long ago. Most of the time, at least. Now I was afraid of what Starsky would say. What if it was all really lost already? I leaned into his hand and treasured this moment for as long as it might last.

“But you're tired...” he said, seeing it in my eyes.

“Don’t go,” I begged. I don’t do that. I don’t have to. Not with him. But this time I was so lost I just didn’t know what else I could do or say or feel anymore.

He looked at me with such anguish that I let go of his hand and turned my head away.

I didn’t want to _make_ him stay. I wanted him to tell me what was wrong because he _wanted_ to share, not because I looked like death warmed over.

He sat there motionless, only our breathing disturbing the silence. Then he pushed down the sheet covering me and put his hand over my heart.

Tears filled my eyes – yes, Nietzscheans can cry – but I didn’t move. There was only my wildly beating heart and the warmth of his hand.

I knew he felt _my_ pain this time, because he asked, “It’s that important to you?”

“It’s that important to me.” I looked at him again. This would be my only chance to explain. To make him understand. “I need to prove my quality. To make them see I am –”

“If they haven’t seen your quality by now, I don’t know how committing suicide will help,” he cut in sharply.

“It’s not suicide.” I sat up, dislodging his hand. I _needed_ him to understand. “It’s not!”

But it was. Or it could be, at least. Starsky knew it as well I did.

“Why?” he asked simply.

“I’m a Nietzschean,” I said. It was now or never. I had only one chance to explain. I couldn’t blow it. “I can’t change who I am, Starsky. But if I don't prove my quality, no Nietzschean woman will ever choose me. I can’t reproduce if no woman will choose me. I will die when my genes die. The _Methuselah’s Gift_ is the only way for me to not die. To be immortal, the way I'm supposed to be. The way all Nietzscheans are supposed to be.”

That was it. Plain and simple. No matter how inferior my race considered me, I was still Nietzschean, and it was my nature to yearn for immortality. I couldn’t change it even if I wanted. And I didn’t want to.

Starsky wasn’t looking at me, but even so, I could tell how much my explanation disturbed him – it was the only thing about Nietzscheans he never could accept – but at the same time I knew he understood. He understood me better than anyone else.

“Promise me something,” he said, still sounding hurt.

“Anything.”

“Don’t die.”

I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or cry. After all, that’s exactly what I was trying to achieve – not dying. “Starsk, how long have we known each other? You know I can take care of myself,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, you can.” He smiled at me sadly. “But you’ll be there alone. I wouldn’t be there to watch your back.”

“I _have_ to do this,” I said tensely, “alone.” The _alone_ part also scared me to death.

“I know.” He nodded. “Okay. I'll take you there, Hutch.” He smiled warmly. “Now go to sleep. When you wake up, we'll be there.”

“Starsk –”

“No. I – I need to think and... I need to check on whatever Merle did to my ship. I missed her the last few weeks when she was in dry-dock. I’ll let know Huggy we're leaving the station. You just rest.”

I nodded and he got up and headed toward the door.

“Starsk,” I called after him, but didn’t know what I should say. What was there to say? He was letting me go, letting me be who I wanted to be. True to my nature. _What was there to say?_

Starsky hesitated by the door, but didn’t turn around. His hunched shoulders were the only indication of how much he hurt.

I didn’t sleep much that night. Deep down in my heart I _knew_ it was a good decision. A right decision. But was it worth hurting Starsky? I never had anybody care that much for me until I met him, and after fifteen years of knowing him, sometimes I still didn’t understand the human side of my nature that he awoke in me.

I didn’t know what to do, because some part of me was afraid this whole journey was _wrong._ I wasn’t used to facing anything alone anymore. Starsky was a part of me now and even my love for the stars wasn’t strong enough to overcome my need to have him by my side at every step I took. But if I wanted to win the _Methuselah’s Gift_ I would have to do it alone.

*

The planet was beautiful – blue and green and white – untouched by any kind of advanced technology. No space stations, no industry, no civilization, no Commonwealth government. There was just plant life and sufficient conditions for humans to survive.

I let Starsky pilot the landing, because even if he trusted me with his ship, I wouldn’t trust myself with such a complicated task. It wasn't only because of the flaw in my DNA. There was something wrong with the gravity – it was too strong for such small planet made of the elements our scanners registered.

While Starsky piloted the landing, I remembered when I'd first heard of this place. I'd sat on my grandfather’s knees as he read me a bedtime story. For some reason he liked me, even though I was the _worthless_ grandson. I basked in his attention as often as I could.

 _“They say there is a place in the universe where immortality waits for people who dare to reach for it,”_ I remembered him reading.

 _“Immortality?”I asked in awe._

 _“Yes, it’s hidden in an ancient crystal that can make anybody immortal. It holds such power, its owner could rule the whole universe. That’s why it's protected so only the worthy could find it.”_

 _I smiled. “I will find it, Grandpa.”_

 _“The stone is hidden somewhere in the universe so only the worthy can win it when the right time comes. They say that the one who will find it can make one wish and it will come true.”_

 _“Just one?” I was so disappointed. I had so many wishes, just one sounded really unfair._

 _“What else can you ask for? Sometimes if even only one wish comes true, it's all you need.”_

Yes, those years with my grandfather were when I was almost happy and almost loved; I liked remembering those times.

A sudden turbulence in the atmosphere reminded me where we were. As the turbulence rocked the ship, it occurred to me that _finding_ this place wasn't the problem. The quest waiting for those who dared to reach for the crystal was the true trial.

Something in the atmosphere wouldn’t let us land close enough to the entrance to the cave, so we had to take the supplies – weapons, knives, and food – and carry them on foot.

Once we left the ship, Starsky stopped looking at me. I didn’t want to impose, but imposing stopped being an issue between us years ago when we both were still working for my grandfather as pilots. I smiled at the memory – that’s where we had met. My grandfather hired him to lead his ships through the Slipstream to a remote planet where he wanted to find alliances.

Starsky didn’t like planets. He was a son of space stations; anything else was boring for him. But for me, the place we just landed in was like a paradise. Trees, plants, a lake – with crystal clear water mirroring the sun – made this day more perfect than it already was. I could even enjoy it for a while, but the thought about what waited for me at the end of this journey was heavy and I grew more and more concerned. I knew the feeling would pass when we reached the cave, but right now I was trying to prepare mentally for the unknown. I had been trained in survival since I could hold a force lance, so facing the unknown was as familiar as breathing, and I knew how to deal with the anxiety. It was only the thought that I would have to do it alone that was disturbing me.

I saw Starsky’s apprehension when we reached the rock we had to climb. Many space pilots are scared of heights and Starsky's fear was really bad. In space, you could fall far, yet rarely get hurt in the landing. On planets, it was more dangerous. Starsky looked up and visibly shivered.

I came closer and touched his arm, feeling how upsetting it was for him to have to climb the rock. Mountains were to him what fire was to me. Because my first name meant "born in fire" my brothers liked to tease me with that element when I was a child. I'd never learned to overpower my fear of fire.

The rock was really high and we couldn’t use any technological help, since nothing mechanical would work this close to the cave. When we were still on board the ship, we'd noticed there was some kind of shield that wouldn't let the sensors scan inside the mountain.

“We can do it, buddy,” I said with as much reassurance as I could muster. We _had_ to.

He looked at me and nodded. I couldn't imagine how much it had to hurt him to think about what lay at the end of this journey. Yet he stood here, ready to face this task, knowing exactly what waited in the end. Maybe if I continued alone...

“Starsk?” I asked in a low voice. “If –”

“I’m fine,” he said immediately and began climbing the rock first.

I followed him, amazed that he never hesitated until we reached the cave. I've never seen such determination in anything else he ever did. I wished I could take him with me into that cave, but I couldn’t afford such wishes. I had to face this alone as all the others did before me.

I really wished I could ask him to come with me, but even if that was allowed, I couldn't risk his life. He was too important. Once, I even saved his life, risking my own. It’s not easy for a Nietzschean, mind you, to do that for another when everything in your nature screams _save yourself_. But when you have been told over and over how worthless you are, some part of you starts to believe it. This way, your family is confident that in an emergency, you would die for _them_. For the worthy specimens of your “Pride,” what Nietzschean’s call our family.

When I saved Starsky, I'd risked my life for a what my Pride would consider a Kludge – an ordinary human. And I won a friend. I don’t know what I wanted to prove by saving him, but it scared me to death that I was capable of such “courage.”

Somehow Starsky realized my turmoil after I dragged him out of the wrecked ship. When it was over, he looked me in the eye and said, “Well done.”

I never told him how much that meant.

They say Nietzscheans don’t love anyone but their own blood, that to us, blood _is_ thicker than water, and it’s all about the double helix—our valuable genetics. Their family—their Pride--is holy, their children are their treasures, the most perfect creatures in the universe.

Trust me, none of this is true. Perfect is the word. They love you only when you are _perfect_ , when your DNA is flawless, when your genes are worth the future of your children.

The Hutchinson Pride had the finest daughters and the bravest sons in the Milky Way galaxy. Our DNA was wanted and treasured. If you were a perfect Hutchinson, your future would be blessed with children, grandchildren, and affluence. For Nietzscheans that equates to genetic immortality.

I was not perfect.

No matter how I tried, my efforts were never enough, my skills were never sufficient, and my DNA was spoiled. They couldn’t kill me – even the Nietzscheans don’t kill their own children. But my brothers and sisters made sure I knew my place. I was never considered for marriage plans; my only purpose was to serve the Pride.

But they were never happy with me, even though I could win any fight when sparing my brothers, even though all my strategy plans always brought our family new territories and allies, even though I gave the best I could--they never once were proud of me.

There was a time when I regretted that they didn’t kill me before I was born, as usually happens with children like me with flawed DNA. But they discovered the flaw in me _after_ I was born when it was too late to end my life mercifully. When I was old enough to understand what I was, I could not do it, either. My will to live was so strong, it scared me.

All I ever wanted was somebody to love me, but if my family couldn’t, who else would?

They say that the Nietzscheans don’t love anyone but their own Pride. And nobody loves the Nietzscheans. That’s why I had nothing. No family, no valuable genes, and no Pride. All I had was my honor and will to live.

Until I met the Kludge. David Starsky – the best pilot to sail the Slipstream since Hasturi the Mad Perseid. Starsky was the first person who was ever proud of me and he found many ways to say, “Well done!” He taught me how to be proud of myself.

How was I supposed to face this quest _without_ him?

Finally, we reached our destination. We stood before a solid rock with a huge gold circle engraved on its surface. Inside the circle was an image of two rivers merging together. The cave was behind this stone. This had to be the entrance. I suspected the gold circle was some kind of transport device, because I couldn’t imagine any other way to get inside.

I turned to Starsky and hesitated.

 _Come with me!_ Everything inside me screamed those words. For the last fifteen years, I'd faced everything life threw at me with him by my side. How was I supposed to face the greatest challenge of my life _without_ him?

“David,” I started to say, but he didn’t let me.

“Don’t. It’s not good bye.” He shook his head. “I’m coming with you.”

I stared in shock. “Starsky, I can’t drag you there with me,” I said. “It against the rules and it’s too dangerous.”

“If I wanted to go there alone, wouldn’t you do everything possible to follow me?” He tilted his head, watching me intently.

“Of course I would.” I couldn’t argue that, but it still was against the rules. “Starsk, listen. I have to go alone. If – if something happens to me, this way you could try –”

“No way, Hutchinson. We go there together or you don’t go at all.” He stood between me and the rock.

“Starsk... please, listen to me!” Why couldn’t he see I was right? It would be suicide if we went there together. No matter how much I wanted him there with me, it still was against the rules.

“No, Hutch,” he said simply. “I won’t negotiate about your life.”

That’s when it happened. I stood there speechless, seeing clearly what I never understood before. He was right – he never negotiated, he never cared about rules, or anyone or anything if he thought he was right.

My brothers had their own ideas why I decided to leave my home world with Starsky. No Nietzschean woman would ever want me to father her children, so it was only logical to take a male lover. They just couldn’t understand why I had to choose a Kludge. That’s when I realized how little they knew about me and Starsky, and that’s when I decided I didn’t need them anymore. Starsky was no second choice. He never was _any_ choice.

They never knew about Vanessa from the Suresh Pride – the princess who shared the most beautiful summer in the High Guard Academy with me. She was a fighter, she was a lover, and she was a challenge. We both knew we had no future together – she used me as much as I used her – but we also used that time to make the best of the months we spent at the Academy on Tarazed.

They never heard of Gillian, who taught me more about life and love than any other woman. To my brothers, she would be just a hooker – the most I could expect in their eyes – but she gave her life for me and was killed by some Nightsider.

In Starsky, they just saw a Kludge. Somebody who belonged among their slaves.

They should have seen him taking down seven enemy Magogs before those vile, bat-like warriors overpowered him and impregnated him with their larvae. I almost lost him, but he held on for me until I found out how to remove the poisonous creatures. They should have seen him when he was taking care of me after my own brothers shot me up with the drug Flash, so I could get them to their military posts more quickly. That’s when I realized who my real brother was.

How could they say he wasn’t perfect?

But all they ever saw was a Kludge.

I didn’t care. I knew if Starsky and I ever did cross the line between friends and lovers, it would be the most beautiful love story the universe had ever witnessed.

Only now did I realize who he really was, and why this whole quest felt so wrong from the beginning. Up to this point, I saw him as a friend. Partner. Brother. But, I realized now, he was someone for whom I had _already_ broken all the rules I was supposed to live by – my family could list them if anyone was interested enough to listen. Making the quest alone was just another rule. I _had_ to take him with me if I wanted to win. Without him, there would be no victory and no reason to even try.

“Starsk, are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, suddenly feeling a strange peace I hadn’t felt since the moment I learned where to find this planet.

“What else can I do?” He shook his head. “Huh? I don’t want you to die.”

“It's no suicide mission,” I said for umpteenth time.

“Until now, nobody has ever survived the quest.” Starsky stepped toward me. “They always tried alone. We have each other. Why can’t you use that?”

I smiled because I also felt he was right, but my Nietzschean soul needed answers. “It can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?” For him it _was_ that simple.

That was enough for me. “Are you really sure?” I still needed him to say that. I needed to hear it once again.

“If there's no way to win this quest to make your dream come true,” he rubbed my arm, “we will die together.”

“I don’t want to die,” I argued.

“Don’t worry, babe.” He smiled. “I’m here and I’ll stay here till it’s over. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?”

“So, let’s go.”

He nodded and we approached the rock.

“How does it work?” I asked.

Starsky frowned and pointed at the golden circle. “They usually just touch this thing and disappear. And when it’s over, their bodies are transported back to the ship.”

“After how long?”

He shrugged. “An hour, a day. Once it was even a whole week.”

“What do you think killed them inside this place?” I'd checked the numbers after I asked him to help me and Starsky was right – nobody ever left this place alive to explain what kind of quest it was.

“A heavy fall, dehydration, heart attack. Once, it looked like a suicide. One of my friends made a retina test on one of the bodies, but it looked as if there was just darkness inside the place where the man died.” He shuddered.

I was glad to hear burning was not on the list.

“Do you really think it will let us both enter?” I looked at him uneasily. Now that I'd accepted him going in with me, I didn’t want to find myself back to square one.

“There’s one way to find out, isn't there?”

We just looked at each other and touched the rivers.

*

I was right. It was a transport device. Suddenly, I was on the other side of the rock’s surface. From here, the inside looked as a transparent glass. There was also a similar gold sign on this side that I figured was our way back.

Starsky was by my side. I smiled at him, relieved that I could see the same emotion in his eyes.

“Why do you think nobody ever thought about doing it together before?” I asked.

Starsky just shook his head, “You sure you are a Nietzschean? Who would want to share the power the stone gives to the one who holds it?”

I couldn’t argue with that logic. “Well, I share my life with you. Why shouldn’t I share the universe as well?”

He seemed surprised, but then smiled. “When you're tired of being a pilot, you should try some poetry.”

“Let’s go, you moron.” How could I have even _considered_ not taking him with me?

The place we were in looked like a kind of corridor that bent slightly to the right after a few feet. We walked until we could see past the curve, then I had to stop for a moment while my Nietzschean eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Once my eyes adjusted, I wouldn’t need any light, but Starsky wouldn’t be able to see anything at all in these conditions – he didn’t have the ‘invictus’ part in his species specification – so I took his hand and we walked further.

He followed in my footsteps so he wouldn’t stumble over rocks and stalagmites. Even though this kind of walking slowed us down, we were in no rush. We had enough food and air, and we knew the way back. For now, it was safe.

I don’t know how long we walked, but somehow I felt we were not on the same level any longer – as if we were walking down a circular ramp, lower and lower.

“Is that light ahead?” I heard Starsky ask after what seemed like hours.

He was right. The corridor grew brighter and I could see our way much better. I let go of his hand and we entered a big cave where over our heads – through some kind of power shield – I saw the bottom of the lake that we passed by before we climbed the rock to get to the entrance. We were under this lake. On the fluctuating shield, I saw a silhouette of a girl with golden skin with a big star over her head.

In the middle of the cave, there was a pedestal and on top the pedestal lay a shining clearcrystal. I looked at Starsky and saw the same expression of disbelief on his face as was on mine.

“Well,” he said. “There's only one possible explanation. Getting in here wasn't hard. Getting out will be more complicated.”

“I guess so, but it doesn’t make sense. Anybody who got here – and it wasn’t that hard, mind you – could take hold of this crystal. And the legend says that whoever holds this stone will be immortal as long as they are holding it. So, how did they die then?”

Starsky came closer to the pedestal and frowned. “When we walked in here, there was nothing that could cause the kinds of death those people suffered.”

I stood behind him and nodded. There was no way the victims had died in that corridor. I looked at the crystal again. It was so close. Just reach out a hand and... yeah, and what?

“What are you waiting for?” I heard Starsky ask.

I turned to him. “Maybe you should step away? If it's a trap...”

“No.”

I knew him well enough to give up trying to change his mind. I was glad he was here. I also didn’t sense any danger.

“Okay.” I reached for the stone. It was cold and as I touched it, I felt a similar coldness suddenly touch my heart. I waited a moment but nothing else happened. I looked at Starsky and he just shrugged.

“You don’t look different,” he said cautiously.

“I – I don’t feel anything,” I agreed. “Maybe it’s not working?”

“Well, there's one way to check,” he suggested.

I took out my knife and looked at the blade with disgust. It wasn’t in my nature to hurt myself, but I had no choice. I cut my hand and then realized that something indeed _was_ different. When I wiped away the blood, there was no wound. I stared at my hand.

“So it works,” I heard Starsky say.

“Yeah.” I stared at him.

There was something in his eyes, in his attitude, that I had never seen before. I couldn’t put a finger on it – was he happy? Relieved? Or was that me?

“But what about more serious wounds?” I asked, deciding I would think about it later.

“You can test it after we’re out of here,” Starsky suggested, and touched the place where I was wounded as if wanting to know if I really was okay.

I leaned forward, touching his temple with my forehead. “I’m fine, Starsk, and you’re right. We should leave.”

He gripped my hand and nodded. “You be careful, huh?”

I sighed. “What can happen while I've got you watching my back?”

He didn’t look at me, but turned toward the exit. I put the stone in my pocket and we headed toward the dark entrance of the passage. I took his hand again and we walked into the dark corridor. I waited a moment until I could see clearly in the darkness, then we made our way back. I was sure that whatever awaited us would have to happen in this passage.

*

When we were almost at the exit, all of a sudden, a bright yellow light blinded us and I heard a high-pitched whistling sound. Instantly, we were transported to a completely different place.

It was still dark, though not as much – Starsky wasn't completely blind – and the room where we were now was enormous. I let go of Starsky’s hand and perused the darkness, trying to figure out where were we and if there was any immediate danger.

I saw hundredsof white rods suspended over headthat seemed to have no end. The rods, floating horizontally like the rungs of a ladder, were placed randomly all throughout the large space in layers as if a giant child had tossed them into a bowl of jelly, yet they didn't move. We could walk among them or around them, but everything was shadowed in the darkness. It looked like some kind of a strange ladder – some of the rods horizontal, some vertical. It seemed they were fixed to something hidden in the darkness. Maybe there were walls somewhere? Under our feet was a smooth dark floor that reminded me of a mirror's surface. But there was no ceiling visible above our heads – just darkness, with all these rods floating throughout the space.

“What happened?” Starsky asked. There was no echo. “Hutch, I don’t have our bag.”

That’s when I noticed I had no knife and – no crystal as well. I should have expected that, but still I felt robbed. We were about to face our fate without any help. As always, it was _me and thee._

“You see the rods?” I decided not to think about the lost items, just try to find a way out.

“Yeah.” Starsky apparently came to the same conclusion. Approaching one of the bars located at his chest level and almost horizontal, he touched it carefully. As he did, a different one farther from us and about ten feet in the air, disappeared. _What did that mean?_

“Let’s check to see if there are any walls or doors,” he suggested. We walked under the bars, but I soon noticed that nothing changed no matter where we went. The horizon was limitless as was the ceiling.

“No walls then.” Starsky stopped and looked up.

“You think it’s a ladder?” I asked.

“I guess so. And when we touch one of the rungs, another one disappears.”

There must have been something wrong with this space, which could explain the slightly heavier gravity of the planet. The technology used to build this place must have been more advanced than anything the Commonwealth possessed.

“Try and touch this one again,” I suggested.

He did, and another rod vanished – one located a few feet over our heads.

“That’s what I thought.” He nodded. “So, we will have to choose two different paths to climb to the ceiling, but the more rods we touch, the more will disappear. So the probability of falling is greater then.”

I didn’t like that idea. “Maybe one of us can climb it,” I proposed, “And then the other one can follow. But how can we know there will be enough rungs for the second one?”

“We can’t.” He looked at me with concern. “Well, we can try and climb together. Maybe the rung won’t vanish if one of us still holds into it?”

“We hardly have a choice, huh?” I wouldn't even consider leaving him there. There was no reason for me to continue alone. And I was sure that the people who had been here before us climbed this ladder. Some apparently fell. Some died later. “Let’s go. We have to do it together.”

Starsky chose one of the rungs and said, “We'll have to worry about the direction later, since we don’t know which rungs will disappear.”

“Yeah.” That was scary.

I rubbed his arm, trying to tell him I wouldn’t let him fall. Starsky nodded and we approached the rod he chose to start. I put my hand on it at the same time Starsky did. The neighboring rung closest to it vanished, but the one we were holding felt solid and safe. I looked at Starsky and slowly we started our long and arduous journey pulling ourselves up one rung at a time, then placing our feet cautiously on the rung we last touched. Sometimes we had to change our route, because the rungs we wanted to use had already disappeared, some of them were placed vertically so we couldn’t use them at all and sometimes the one we were standing on vanished.

The first time that happened, only our knowing each other so well saved our lives. We knew each other’s reactions, so managed to synchronize our moves and land on the same rung several feet below, almost missing it. I saw the panicked expression on Starsky’s face and decided to take a break until we both calmed down. It scared me to death when I saw him fall and it didn’t even occur to me that I also could die.

The journey took hours. I was tired, my arms and feet hurt, and my palms were red and swollen, but our tempo didn’t slow. The longer we climbed, the better we coordinated our decisions, so managed to climb more quickly than at the beginning. Now we were going up as if we were one person instead of two. I knew it was important. If this journey was intended for two people, this trial had to mean something. I told Starsky what I thought and he just smiled. I was glad he was stubborn enough to make me take him with me.

Even though I was exhausted from climbing, I noticed the light grew brighter with every step we took on that ladder. “Something’s changed,” I whispered. I was too tired to speak loudly.

“What?” He didn't seem amused that I was disturbing our pace.

I knew the light this time was too subtle for Starsky to notice. “The light is changing.” I looked up and saw a rectangular shape about twelve feet long with a diagonal bar across it made of one of the rungs. “There, see? The light is coming from that direction. I think we should aim for it. It looks like a hole in the ceiling.”

“Maybe it’s a way out?” he asked hopefully. “Some kind of an exit?”

“Let’s go.”

But it wasn’t as easy as I wanted it to be. There were no rungs directly under that shape, and it was at least ten feet away from the last rung we could use. To make things worse, when we reached the rod that was closest to the light in the ceiling, all the remaining rungs vanished except for the one we were holding onto and the one in the ceiling.

“Great,” Starsky wheezed beside me, hanging on to the remaining rod.

“How long can you hold on?”

“As long as I have to, dummy. You’re the brains in this partnership. You figure this out.”

There were people for whom this statement was the only truth in the universe – that I, as a Nietzschean, was more intelligent than any other Human – but Starsky and I weren’t included in that group of individuals. I knew that as long as we still lived, we had a chance. I wasn’t going to let us die here.

“Can you pull yourself up?” I asked. As he said before – one step at a time.

Starsky nodded.

Again, slowly coordinating our moves, we pulled ourselves up until we were sitting on the remaining rung, our legs dangling in space, but finally could rest for a while. By gripping the rod, which was several inches in diameter, we could keep our balance. But I noticed Starsky’s palms were in the same shape as mine. We really could use the crystal right now.

 _We._

I smiled.

“What do we do now?” Starsky asked after a moment.

I looked up and tried to measure the distance to the source of the dim light and the other remaining rod. There was no way to reach it. We couldn’t jump that far, and we couldn’t stand on each other’s shoulders without another point of support. There was just no way to get there.

“We need a rope.” Starsky said aloud what I had just thought.

“We don’t have a rope.”

“So we'll make one.” He took off his jacket.

“You love that jacket,” I said when I realized what he was going to do.

“Hutch.” He looked at me with exasperation, already tearing it into narrow bands so we could interlace it into a rope. “Sometimes I really think you're not a Nietzschean. Right now, my jacket is not very high on my list of priorities.”

I had to laugh at his response, but took my own jacket off as well.

We worked together shredding and reweaving the strips of jacket and soon we had a nice long rope.

“You think it will hold us?” He looked at me with concern.

“It has to.”

“You know we have just one chance?”

I gulped. Yes, I knew.

He handed me the jacket-rope and frowned. “I guess you should turn around, facing away from me.” I knew what he meant. Because there were only two rungs remaining, the moment the rope would touch the second rung above our heads, the one we were sitting on would disappear, and we would fall.

“Yeah, but we have to stand up, buddy,” I said faintly. Keeping my balance was never my best ability.

At first, we crouched on the rung and steadied ourselves. Only when we both were ready, did we stand up very cautiously. I turned around slowly and felt Starsky move closer, pressing his chest against my back. He put one arm over my shoulder, holding onto me tightly, while clutching the jacket-rope in the other.

“Ready?” I was glad he wasn't strangling me, holding onto my neck.

“Let’s get this journey over with.” I felt his breath against my ear.

I nodded and as we both tensed, I cast the rope over the rung near the ceiling. When it touched the rod, the rung we were standing on disappeared. At the last second, we jumped and I managed to grasp the other end of the rope just before we started falling. I hung there, both hands grasping the two ends of the jacket-rope as it hung draped over the last remaining rung. Starsky clung to my back and we swung back and forth.

“Go on up,” I rasped, still feeling the adrenaline rush.

I could try and climb up with him still hanging on to me, but I wasn’t sure the rope would hold us that way. As a Nietzschean, it would be no problem for me to carry him effortlessly, but I didn’t want us to fall because the rope broke. It was better to ease the strain and climb one after the other.

I felt Starsky nod against my back and then he began climbing over me. I prayed the jackets would last until I was on the other side of the exit above, where the last rung was attached.Starsky went first, clambering over me until he was securely holding the last rung. When I climbed after him and got close enough, he reached for my hand. A moment later, he pulled me up, and we could both see what was on the other side of the rectangular shape that was the source of light. It was a doorway of sorts, and we went through that opening in the strange ceiling and entered another chamber.

*

This place was not dark. In fact, there was bright light. We could see the “room” was shaped like a huge pyramid. It was so big we couldn't see either the top or the bottom. We were standing by on some kind of a platform near one of the walls. Two paths lead from the platform. One led toward a dark hole in the wall – I expected it might be an exit – and the second led over a bottomless abyss toward a podium in the middle of the pyramid. It was so far away I couldn’t see what was on that podium or judge how big the podium actually was.

Starsky stepped to the end of the platform to look down. “Why does it always have to be so deep?” I heard him cursing.

I went to the other side of the platform and walked through the dark hole. I found myself in a smaller chamber – maybe about twenty feet long -- but there were no other exits. Everything--floor, walls, ceiling--was made of stone. On the opposite wall was a drawing of a smiling sun. When I turned back to go out I noticed there was something written over the doorframe.

“Starsk!” I called him because I recognized the letters but couldn’t speak that language.

Starsky joined me and looked surprised at the smiling sun. “What’s that?”

I pointed at the door. “I would rather know what _that_ is.”

He turned and read the passage aloud since it was written in his mother language from Earth. “'It is because something else is not. You can’t take one without the other.'” He looked at me without understanding. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“A riddle?”

“Well, I’m more interested in what might be on that podium.”

“We can check it out.”

The footpath was too narrow for two people side-by-side, but we could walk single file. I thought that whatever was on that podium might help us understand how to get out of this place. But the moment I put one foot on the path, yellow flames flared up around the podium, hiding anything what might have been on it.

I froze.

 _No. Not fire!_

Starsky pulled me away from the edge of the platform and grasped my shoulders. “Hutch? Hutch!”

I blinked, trying to calm my breathing. _No, no, no, no!_ I stepped back until I felt the rock wall behind me, and then slumped down.

“Hutch, it’s okay.” Starsky sat next to me, saying it over and over.

I concentrated on his voice.

“It’s okay, babe.”

I felt his fingers in my hair.

Yes, it was okay; there was no fire where I sat. And Starsky was by my side. What could happen?

I looked at him and tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are, klutz.” I knew I didn’t fool him. “Let me go there, okay?” he asked with concern.

I turned again toward the ring of fire and shivered. “Starsky, it’s suicide.”

“No, it’s not. This whole quest can’t be impossible to complete,” he reasoned. “It’s just a test. It’s a ‘how-much-can-you-sacrifice-moment’ or something. Let me walk through the fire and you solve the riddle in the meantime, okay?”

I laughed, exasperated. “Are you nuts? You can’t do that! You're afraid of heights.” I waved toward the abyss.

“Well, that ladder also wasn’t a walk on the space station, but Hutch, we have no other choice. I don’t want us to die here.”

“I should go,” I tried to get up, but he gripped my shoulder.

“Don’t. Listen to me, Hutch. I know what you’re thinking, but we’re in this together. Right?”

I wanted to listen to him, to believe, but even after all these years, it was hard to forget what my family taught me. “I can do it,” I said firmly. He _had_ to understand. It was my idea and I should be the one to go.

Starsky cupped my cheek and gave me a reassuring smile. “Hey, Hutch. It’s just me and thee here. You don’t have to do that.”

He always knew what to do and what to say to have my world make sense again.

“What if that’s a trap?” I held his hand. I still felt weak from shock after seeing the fire.

“Then you can save me, okay?”

“I will.”

He patted my cheek and went toward the path. I followed him with my eyes until he was just a tiny figure – I don’t know how long it took, but when he was almost to the podium, he stopped and turned around. He was too far away for me to hear if he was saying anything, but he waved his hand. Then he walked through the ring of fire as if it weren't hot.

I got up and waited.

What if that wasn't fire? But what was it then?

After a few minutes, Starsky reappeared. He took only few steps and fell to his knees, stumbling.

I ran.

 _No, no, no, no!_ _Live, live, live, live!_ That was my mantra with every step I took. I never ran so fast in my life.

Starsky didn’t move, he just knelt there, rubbing his shoulders and waiting.

What was wrong? What happened?

When I finally got close enough to see him, I noticed he was holding something silver in his hand. There was blood on his face. I was so scared for him I didn’t even notice the fire until I got to Starsky. Then I realized it wasn’t fire at all.

The “flames” were thick golden scourges that moved in all directions. Starsky must have been hit by them many times. I fell on my knees in front of him and saw he had wounds on his temple and right hand.

“Are you hurt elsewhere?” I asked, making him look at me.

He shook his head, but continued rubbing his arms. “Think I’ll be bruised for a while,” he said. He was a Heavy-Worlder – he grew up on a planet with slightly more gravity than on Earth where he was born. That meant he could hold his own in hand-to-hand combat against any warrior – even a Nietzschean. He had superhuman reflexes and about four times the normal human strengths and endurance. So, if he said _he'd_ be bruised for a while, it told me enough about how hard the blows had been.

“I’m sorry.” I hung my head, cursing silently. _It should have been me._

“Hutch, it’s okay. We couldn’t have known.” He put something into my hand. “Help me up, will you?”

I did, and only then looked at what he'd taken from the podium. It was a force lance. I met his gaze with surprise, but he just shrugged.

“I guess we’ll need it,” was all he said.

“Wasn’t it supposed to not work here?”

“Try it.”

I armed the lance and fired. It worked.

“Let’s go, Hutch.”

We made our way back from the podium slowly – I went first and he followed me. I would have preferred it the other way around so I could keep an eye on him, but there was no place for him to pass me.

“There was nothing else,” he said as we went. “Just those whips and a marble podium. I checked it. It was just stone.”

“It means that this lance is our answer.”

“That reminds me – did you solve the riddle?”

I looked at him over my shoulder, amazed. “You didn’t expect me to be thinking about that when you were risking your life, did you?”

“No, not really.”

I walked in silence for a while when Starsky spoke again. “Hutch, don’t take it wrong, pal, but what exactly is the problem with your DNA?”

“Huh?” I had to look at him again.

“I’m just curious. I’ve known you for fifteen years and I never could figure out what the issue might be.”

I stopped and turned around. He really couldn’t have chosen a worse place to ask such a question. And I realized that he actually never did ask me this before now. He knew there was something wrong with me, and still never asked as if it weren't important to him.

“But you... but you tell me about it all the time,” I said, confused. It felt strange to stand there and be asked that. If Starsky didn’t know or didn’t realize – but how could he not? – would that change when he got the answer?

“I do?” He looked a little shocked.

“Yeah.” I sighed. I've never lied to him, so I decided to just tell him the truth. And face the consequences. “I lack physical coordination. That’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

For a moment Starsky looked as if he didn’t understand what I'd said, but then it dawned on him, “Klutz...?” he whispered. “I – Hutch, I – I--”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I assured him. “And it’s true.”

Nietzscheans are never clumsy; it's considered an indicator of bad genetics and I was the only one in my family who would trip not only during fighting practice, but even taking a walk on a promenade on a space station. Nietzscheans were merciless when it came to DNA flawlessness.

“No, it’s not true.” Starsky touched my arm and shook his head. “Your balance was pretty good when we climbed that ladder. And now? Just look at you.”

I glanced into the abyss that stretched out on both sides of the path. “You think?”

“Sure. You didn’t fall down, did you?” He winked and I laughed.

And some people wondered why I loved him.

Nonetheless, when I was back on the platform, I sighed, relieved, and we went back to the smaller chamber. I read the riddle again. “'It is, because something else is not. You can’t take one without the other.'”

Starsky leaned against the wall and looked at me blankly. “Some emotion? Feeling? It is but it really isn’t. It’s just in your mind. And you can’t take it if you don’t take the person who feels it.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Because even emotion _is_. And why would we need the force lance for such an answer? It must be connected to this answer. I know it must be.”

Starsky smiled. “Okay. So what can a lance be good for?”

“It’s a weapon. You can kill with it, you can use it as crowbar, it’s a flashlight, life sign scanner, and you can shoot with it.”

“Great.” Starsky accepted my answers. “We don’t have any enemies to need it as a weapon. Not yet at least. There's enough light, and we don’t need any life sign scanner. We need an exit. If we knew where it was, we could use this as a crowbar.”

I looked at the sun on the wall and came closer to the drawing. I knew I was looking at the answer, but what was I seeing? Stars were always an answer for me.

“'It is, because something else is not.'” I fingered the drawing. Nothing.

I was the best strategist in my Pride and I couldn’t solve a simple riddle! Invented by Humans, if the origin of the legend were true. I was supposed to be superior to them!

What can’t exist alone? A sun? A star? No, I wouldn’t find the answer this way. What did we need the most? We needed an exit. And what was an exit? A hole in any of these walls.

“A hole!” I exclaimed and turned to Starsky. “You can make holes with the lance. And a hole can’t exist separately. It is, because something else is not. It’s a lack of something.”

“Yes!” Starsky looked at the drawing. “And stars die and evolve into black holes. Here is the exit! We have to change the sun into a black hole.”

We stepped back and I armed the lance. I aimed and fired once straight into the middle of the drawing. And there it was – a small but deep hole. And we could see the other side of the wall. I fired again and again, until the exit was large enough for us to go through.

Starsky went first, but his first sentence on the other side was, “Oh, no. Not again.”

*

We were in another chamber – round this time – but there were no drawings or other decorations. Just yellowish stones that made this place look like a well. And there was an exit. High above our heads. The problem was how to get there.

“Climbing again?” Starsky asked gloomily.

“I don’t see any ladder.” I tried to stick my fingers into the spaces between the stones in the wall, but I knew it wouldn’t work. It was like trying to climb a smooth wall. “And there's no way to get there otherwise.”

Starsky sat by the wall and sighed. He looked so tired. As tired as I felt. I sat next to him and just to check it out, I fired at one of the walls. Nothing happened.

Starsky smirked at me, but I just shrugged. “No harm in trying. How about we take a break for a moment? Huh?”

“Okay.” He accepted my offer and rested his head on my shoulder. “What do we need this time?”

“A ladder.”

“No. A ladder won’t miraculously appear here and we just passed a ladder-test. It would be repugnant.”

“Redundant,” I corrected with a smile.

“Yeah, that too,” he agreed. “It must be something already here that we can use.”

I raised an eyebrow. “There is nothing here, in case you hadn't notice.”

“Ah-uh,” he disagreed and looked at me condescendingly.

I frowned, seeing sparks in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He just smiled. “Hutch.”

“Okay,” I admitted. “ _We_ are here.”

“Good answer.”

“How is that supposed to help us?”

“There is nobody else who _could_ help us.” Starsky got up and contemplated the room for a moment. “There is a way out. We just don’t see it.”

“Some invisible stairway?” I asked mockingly.

“Maybe?” He went to one of the walls and fingered the stones. Slowly he touched all the stones he could reach. I didn’t move, because I had no idea what he was trying to achieve.

“Okay, so there's no invisible stairway,” he admitted when he rounded the room. “That only means one will have to turn up.”

“Huh?” I blinked. “When? And how?”

“When we ask them?”

This answer was so surreal and absurd that for a moment I thought he'd lost his mind.

Starsky was looking at me hesitantly, but then went to the wall I was leaning against and touched one of the stones. I stood up and watched him intensely. Starsky stroked the surface tenderly and whispered something I didn’t understand. I could swear that under his touch the stone sang and then – soundlessly – drew out from the wall a few inches.

I looked at him, amazed. “Starsk, how did you –? How did you know?”

He blushed and shrugged. “I didn’t. But I thought that – well, if that’s a test for people who potentially would rule the universe, then it would be nice if they were – I don’t know, open minded?”

“I would have never even thought about talking to stones!”

“I always knew you haven't put up with me all these years only because I have beautiful eyes.” He smiled then turned to talk to another stone.

I watched him as he climbed the unusually prepared “stairway.” If it hadn’t worked, I would have laughed at him, but he still gave this crazy idea a try. And it was worth it. I never understood why he trusted me so much. I just shook my head. When he was almost at the top of the well, I followed him.

“But your eyes _are_ beautiful,” I said when he was helping me out.

“Consider it a bonus.”

*

I was not surprised when I realized where we ended up this time. We were in some kind of cubical glass cage with doors and windows in the ceiling and walls and floor. We saw three other similar cages adjacent to ours, and these had others next to them as well. All the cages were alike and made of transparent glass about ten feet long – except for one that was situated on the other side of this strange cube made of smaller cubes. The last one was green. I counted seven cages in every direction so it made three hundred and forty three cages in the whole construction.

“You thinking what I'm thinking?” I heard Starsky asking.

“Yes, that green one is where we have to go,” I agreed.

“What’s the catch?”

“Let’s see.” I intertwined my fingers so I could boost him up to the opening in the ceiling. He skillfully got through the window and at the same moment both cages changed color into orange, though the walls still were transparent.

Starsky looked at me concerned. “There are just four exits in the walls. Including this one.” He held his hand and helped me up.

“So it’s a labyrinth. We will have to find our way to the last one.” When I went through the window, the cube we just left changed color to red.

“I think these colors mean something.” Starsky frowned.

“And I’m afraid we will find out what it means too soon.”

“I’m also afraid we can only see how many exits there are in the cubes we can see into. It’s hard to notice anything in the further ones through the transparent walls.”

He was right unfortunately. “Well, we have to go up and left. The rest we can figure out later when we enter a cube with no windows on the ceiling.” I held my hands again and he went through the opening. The transparent cage switched color again into orange.

When we both were two cubes away from the first one, it turned black and all the openings that had been in that cube closed.

Starsky whistled. “So now we know what the catch is.”

That meant there was no going back. But we had no choice, we had to move forward. Finally, I understood why no one had ever left this place alive. We could try more possibilities in this labyrinth because there were two of us. One person alone could only use three cubes and the adjacent ones. Two people could make it five and the adjacent. Comparing that to the three hundred and forty three it wasn’t much, but two people could also memorize more opening configurations than one person by themselves.

It was the easiest part of this test for us so far. When we finally reached the green cube in the three dimensional maze, almost half of the other cubes were black. And there was just one door out of the green cube, a normal door with hinges and a door handle.

I looked at Starsky and stopped before I touched the wooden surface. He was looking at the door with visible fear on his face.

“What is it?” I came to him and touched his arm.

“I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either, but we hardly have any choice here.”

“No, you don’t understand.” I felt him shiver. “There is something wrong on the other side of this door.” He shook his head vehemently.

“On this side, too. We can’t stay here.”

“I know.” He squeezed my hand but didn’t move.

I felt his distress but couldn’t give up now. I needed us to believe we could do it no matter what. I took him in my arms and held him close. “Starsk, whatever happens, I’m glad you came with me,” I whispered.

He hugged me back. “Whatever happens, I want you to live,” I heard him saying.

I pulled back slightly and looked him in the eye. “Ready?”

He nodded. I went toward the door and opened it. At the same moment, Starsky grasped my arm. I turned and looked at him, surprised, but he was staring at the opposite wall – which a moment before was transparent. Now there was some scene projected on it.

I recognized the cave where we started, with the lake and the shield and the golden silhouette of the girl. I saw me there, standing in the middle, next to the pedestal where the stone sat. I couldn’t see Starsky anywhere nearby, but the facial expression of the _other_ me worried me the most. I saw desperation and fear and pain. I've never felt anything like what I saw on my face.

I looked at Starsky. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

And then it happened. The person in the cave – the other me – got hit by a shot from a force lance and was immediately surrounded by flames. After an endless moment, the other me fell back motionless on the ground.

I gasped, nauseated.

“Hutch, what is that?” asked Starsky, but I could hardly hear him over the pounding in my ears. I realized he was holding me in his arms again.

“I don’t know.” I shook my head against his shoulder. The projection disappeared and again there was just a transparent wall.

“Is that the future?”

I looked at him. “I – I guess so.”

“A warning?”

 “Yes, it must be that. Why else would it be here?”

Starsky moved away and put a hand over my chest. “Hutch, be careful when you're back in the cave, okay?”

“We. When we're back in the cave,” I corrected him, not wanting to even think about the alternative.

“I wasn’t there.” His eyes were so intense and sorrowful. “I won’t be able to protect you.”

“I won’t let that happen,” I said firmly. “Now that I know it can happen. If that’s a future, I can still change it. We can.”

“Just in case, okay?”

“Come on, Starsky.” I couldn’t think about it now or I would go insane – the sight of me in flames had haunted my nightmares for as long as I can remember. I didn’t need another version of my death in that collection. “It’s just a waste of time. We need to concentrate on completing this quest.”

He watched me for a while, but then just nodded. “Okay.” He went through the door first.

*

The room was small and white. There was a door on the left wall and a table in the middle of the room. On the table, I saw another force lance and on the opposite wall there was a screen with various data in the same language as the riddle. When we crossed the threshold, the door closed and I felt my body being scanned. After a moment, our biological data appeared on the screen – pulse, heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, and species specification. Above the other door, a timer started counting backwards. It showed a hundred and twenty minutes.

“You think the door will open in two hours?” I asked Starsky, but he was looking at the console with our data. I followed his gaze and froze. There was also the level of oxygen listed and it would last only about seventy minutes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked faintly, because I knew the answer.

“That means that only one of us can walk out this door,” Starsky answered slowly.

“No way!” I armed the lance and shot at the door. It didn’t even burn.

“Don’t!” Starsky held my hand before I could fire again. “You'll only use up the oxygen!”

I hesitated and looked at the console. He was right, now it would last for only sixty-five minutes. I cursed.

“So why is there another lance?” I indicated the table.

Starsky approached the table, but didn’t touch the weapon. “To even the chances,” he said.

“What chances?”

“We could fight so the winner would live.”

I threw the lance I still held in my hand on the table as well. “I don’t think so,” I said with conviction, and paced the room looking for some answers. “This whole quest is meant for two people. So two people have to live 'til the end. The alternative is not logical.”

“Logical or not, there is only enough oxygen for one person. They've checked us and the amount of air will last only for half that time, even considering you're a Nietzschean and don’t need as much air as I do.”

“I don’t care!” I yelled angrily.

“I won’t let you die here, Hutch!” Starsky reached for the lance, but I held his hand. I knew perfectly well what he was going to do.

“If you do that, I will do the same,” I said coldly. I wasn’t going to let him commit suicide for me.

“Hutch, don’t you get it?” He didn’t try to free his hand, but also didn’t yield. “This is your only chance to survive this!”

“Starsky, think about it. This whole place was built by Humans, and we know now the legend is true. It was not built by Nietzscheans. I know I’m right. We won’t die here. They can’t kill us now,” I finished firmly.

“Of course they can. They killed hundreds before.”

“No, the people who were here before us were losers from the moment they entered this cave. They were here alone. We will not die, trust me.”

“Hutch, we can’t risk it this way,” Starsky cut my words off. “If there is a way for one of us...”

“Stop it! There is no risk. Either we both walk through that door or... I’m just not leaving you here. And I don’t even want to see you near this lance again.” I pointed at the table.

After a long silence, he gave in. “So? What do you want to do?”

I didn’t know what I wanted to do. There was not much we could do anyway. “Wait? Try to find a way out?”

“You know there is no way out until the time runs out.”

I looked at the timer as it slowly reached the final moment. I felt Starsky's palm between my shoulder blades, and for the first time since we'd entered this quest, I really felt I was right. I felt that I was doing the right thing for the first time in my entire life.

Seconds passed moving toward the deadline and I still looked at the clock. _If_ I was wrong, we both would die here in less than an hour, but I couldn’t be wrong. Not that wrong.

“Hutch?” Starsky leaned forward and touched his temple against mine.

“Yeah?” I didn’t move. He reached out so rarely that I wouldn’t have moved even if my life depended on it.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For believing there is a way out for both of us.” I felt his whisper against my ear.

I closed my eyes. “You are my way out. Without you, my chances would be nonexistent.”

“Well, from where I stand it, looks like me being here just uses up your oxygen.”

I turned toward him and took a handful of curly dark hair, gently forcing his face up. “It’s ours. And I _never_ thought you were a waste of space.”

“That’s what they called you?”

Sometimes, I didn’t like how perceptive he was. He could read between the lines too well for my liking. “Not important anymore.”

He winced but nodded. “Come on, let’s sit down and wait. There's not much else we can do.”

I sighed and took my place next to him by one of the walls. He leaned his head on my shoulder and we waited. For some reason I was grateful for the silence. And the time to rest. If I _was_ wrong and this really was the end, I couldn’t have dreamed of a better way to die.

Hatred of death had been instilled in me even before I was born. Drago Museveni imprinted it into his Nietzschean’s DNA hundreds of years ago with an intensity far greater than natural evolution could have ever accomplished. We all lived driven by this hate and unnatural will to survive at any price.

Suddenly, I couldn’t fear it anymore. I could have died violently so many times since we entered this cave that this slow and _expected_ death was a perfect end. I put my arm around Starsky’s shoulders and held him closer.

But why wasn’t I scared? I didn’t understand it. I still wanted to live but I didn’t fear death anymore. Minutes went by, and it was harder to breath as time passed.

“Hutch?” I heard Starsky when there was only enough oxygen for a few more minutes.

“Shhh.” Talking used more air than we could afford.

“Do you regret it?” He didn’t listen to me.

I never could deny him anything. “What?”

“That I’m here?”

I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I told you, already. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“But you’ll die. I shouldn’t have brought you here.” He shook his head against my shoulder.

“No,” I whispered. “I’m glad you did.”

“I got you killed.” There was so much pain in his voice.

“We are still alive. And nobody has ever done as much for me as you have,” I said firmly. If I believed anything at all, it was this.

“I did nothing.” He shrugged.

I winced and pulled him closer. He really didn’t understand? “You loved me,” I said.

I couldn't see his face, but I know he smiled. “Still do. Always will.”

“And you ask if I regret that?” I whispered, exasperated.

For a moment, we were still. I listened to his breathing, which was more labored than mine, and prayed that the door would open to let us out where he could be safe.

“Hutch, I’m sorry,” I heard him again.

“For what?”

“That I doubted you.” He sounded ashamed and tried to pull back, but I didn’t let him.

“You what? When?”

“Always, I guess.”

“How?” I threaded my fingers through his hair – wet with sweat. It was warmer in here now.

“I always thought that surviving was the most important thing for you,” Starsky confessed.

“That was,” I admitted. “That is.”

He laughed. “You’re dying ‘cause of me.”

“Not because of you,” I corrected. “And we’re not dying.”

“Hutch...”

“I know, Starsk. And it’s okay. This doubt thing, I mean. I’m a Nietzschean. That’s how we are.” It really didn’t matter, because whatever he thought, he stayed with me 'til the end.

“No.” He shook his head again. “You’re my friend and I shouldn’t have questioned your...dedication. Loyalty. You. And here I thought you teamed with me after your family made you leave the Academy just to make them angry.”

“Why did you agree then?” I looked at him surprised.

“Because I also wanted to make them angry. They hurt you. They didn’t know you.”

Again, he was right, but I couldn’t let him spend our last minutes together regretting a past we couldn’t change. “Why did you insist on coming here with me then? If you thought at the end I would sacrifice you?”

“I didn’t think that, Hutch. Never. I just – I just wanted to be part of this quest. ‘Cause it was so important to you, because you love the stars. And I wanted you to succeed. It would be nice if you were immortal. They wouldn’t be able to hurt you ever again...” His voice trailed off.

“Starsk...”

He didn’t say anything else, just squeezed my hand tighter.

I felt dizzy, my head hurt, and I was so tired. I knew that I didn’t need as much oxygen as Starsky did, but the lack of it still weakened me considerably. I held him close, knowing that these might be my last moments with him.

I was never _really_ scared of death; I knew I was never meant to live forever. From the first day of my life, I was considered replaceable and somehow I accepted it over time. That was also a flaw. No Nietzschean would give up the hope for immortality. But I never even had that hope. I tried, but I never really believed it.

This legend was my only chance, and even though I probably wouldn't win, I felt like a winner anyway. I had found the stone and for a moment held it in my hand. But was it worth Starsky’s life? He followed me even though he thought this mission was hopeless. He still followed me. For _me_.

I listened to his breathing; it was more and more labored. He was holding into my shirt as if I were his lifeline. There was nothing I could do for him. I watched the data on the screen and knew he was dying – so was I. The pain in my lungs was more than just a lack of oxygen. My heart was aching.

 _No. No, it couldn’t be happening._

“Hu’ch?”

“Shhh, don’t talk.” I stroked his hair.

“Tired.”

“I know.”

“Sleep.”

“No, don’t.”

“Sorry...”

A moment later his breathing stopped, and his data on the screen changed in a way I didn’t like.

“Starsk?” I laid him down and touched his chest. “Starsky?”

Nothing. His heart was still beating, but I knew he would die within minutes if he couldn't breathe.

 _It can't be happening. We have to live. Both of us. He trusted me. And I failed him. As I've failed everyone. No!_

I had to save him. He had to live. He was the key to that door. I just knew it!

I took a deep breath – as much as my aching lungs let me -- and slowed my heart. I'd never done it before because I'd never needed to, but instinctively I knew how to make it work. I was a Nietzschean after all, and I knew my body well. After a few seconds, I managed to lower my use of oxygen to a level I needed just to remain conscious. I wouldn’t be able to keep it at this level for long, but I had to try. I turned down everything in my body that wasn't needed and concentrated on what was important.

Starsky’s lips were turning blue and I had to hurry. I had shared everything with him, including my life. I had wanted to share the universe with him as well. Now all I wanted was to share the air. I tilted his head back and closed his nose with two fingers. I inhaled as much as I could and firmly sealed my lips over his. Slowly, I blew the oxygen into his lungs. My vision was too blurred to see his face but I didn’t need my eyes to do this. But I could hear the monitors. The sound from the console that told me his heart stopped beating.

 _No!_

I repeated the process, breathing for him.

“Starsk,” I wheezed, feeling for his pulse. Nothing. “Don’t do this to me!”

The flat line on the console was long and loud. And then the screen went black.

I blinked, hanging onto Starsky’s shirt as if that could hold him among the living. My own biological data also went black. I heard a familiar whistling sound and suddenly we were transported back into the first cave.

The sudden change in the oxygen level made me sick. It took me a moment to understand what had happened, and then the only thing I could see was Starsky’s body. I checked him again for any signs that could mean he was still alive, but there was nothing to give me any hope.

“I’m so sorry...” I whispered, pulling Starsky’s limp body onto my lap as I held him tightly in my arms. “I’m so sorry, Starsk...” I brushed my fingers through his hair, feeling tears on my cheeks. I didn’t care. He'd seen me crying before. He wouldn’t mind. He never minded.

I loved him harder than anyone in my entire life. And now he was gone. I didn’t want even to look at the stone that lay a few feet away from me on the high pedestal. The crystal of immortality. I didn’t want to live forever anymore. Not without him. He made me who I was. There was no reason for _being_ anymore.

 _Live, Hutch._ I heard his whisper against my ear.

 _No._ I didn’t want to.

 _Live, Hutch._

Stubborn idiot. He couldn’t give up, could he? He couldn’t wish for something easier?

 _Wish... Wish?_

 _What else can you ask for? Sometimes if even only one wish comes true, it's all you need._

I had one wish available. If that legend was true, I could make one wish.

“Wait here,” I whispered into his ear and gently lowered him to the ground. “I’ll be right back.”

I stumbled toward the podium and hesitated when I remembered the projection from the green room. If I reached for the stone again, I could be shot and die. If I was about to die now, I didn’t care though. I had to save him. I grabbed the stone and waited a second. Nothing happened – No one shot at me. I didn’t even feel the coldness from the crystal that I had felt previously. I felt warmth this time.

I ran back to Starsky and pressed the stone into his hand, curling his fingers around it.

“Live... just live, please,” I whispered, taking him in my arms again.

“That stone can’t bring him back.” A woman’s voice startled me.

I saw a girl with golden skin and long hair standing a few steps from me. She resembled the girl on the shield above that protected us form the lake water. “W-what?” I asked blankly. Who was she?

“That stone can’t bring him back,” she said again. “But I can.” She came closer and knelt beside us.

“Who are you?” I blinked because I could hardly see her through my tears.

“I am what gives life. I am what you are made of. I create everything and I can destroy everything. I am what you have feared the most.” She reached and touched Starsky’s cheek. Then she looked at me.

I shivered. “Who are you? Are you God?”

She smiled. “No, I am not.”

“Do you know why it isn't working?” I showed her Starsky’s hand holding the stone.

“It does work. But you are not doing it right.” She slowly shook her head.

“Help me?” I pleaded.

She smiled sadly. “The wish is for you. Not for him.”

“Why?” I groaned.

“You won. He didn’t.”

“No,” I said vehemently. “I wouldn’t have come so far without him! Why can’t you see that?”

“I know,” she nodded.

“So why can’t you help me?”

“You don’t need my help.” She smiled gently. “You are one of only a few who have completed the quest. You are worthy of eternal life, and I am giving that to you now. You will die only when you decide your life has been fulfilled, and when you want to rest. Not before.”

I looked at her closely. “Who are you?”

“I am who gives this stone its power,” she confessed, and I saw an unusual shine on her face.

“You're a star!” I said.

“Yes, I am the avatar of one of the stars you know. My name is Trance,” she confirmed. “You always reached for the stars. You dared to reach for the greatest gift we offered our children. Yet, you had your own star by your side all the time.”

 _My own..? Starsky._

“He's nobody’s property,” I corrected her. I never owned him and I never wanted to. I just wanted him to live.

“Love makes us slaves, giving us the sweetest freedom.” Trance sat cross-legged next to us.

“What does that mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

“That means _you_ can save him.”

“How?” I looked at the useless stone in Starsky’s hand.

“I can heal his body.” She put her hand over Starsky’s heart and I felt life coming back to him. Suddenly I was cradling a warm and living body against my chest. I reached for his wrist – his pulse was steady under my fingers. I gasped.

“But what he was,” Trance was still talking, “his essence, his soul you call it, will come back only for _you_. That is a part of creation that even stars can’t control. That’s what is beyond our power.” She took the stone from his hand, stood, and went to the pedestal. She put it back and turned to me. “You are one of a few who completed the quest. You did it because you love to live. But do you know what is better than doing what you love?”

Yes, I knew. “Doing it together,” I whispered.

“Yes,” she came to me again. “You are the first Nietzschean to be granted immortality. Now, take your time. You both won. You both have all the time in the world. And the universe is full of stars. Come and visit.” She smiled and brushed her lips over my forehead. “We are proud of you. All of us.”

I looked up and saw many women like her – golden skin and long hair, shining faces and eyes full of stars – standing around us. And then she stepped back and they all slowly disappeared into the darkness. Only the silhouette over the shields reminded me of her presence.

“Starsk?” I looked at him again, but he didn’t move.

He was alive, I knew it, but somehow I couldn’t _feel_ him. As if he was far away and I just couldn’t reach him. I pulled him against my chest again and closed my eyes. She said I could bring him back. But how? And what if he didn’t want to come back to me? He died because of me, after all. What if I really was worthless? What if my family was right?

I listened to his heartbeat and his breathing and I realized I was holding in my arms the greatest treasure of the universe. I didn’t want to live forever without him. He was the only person who never questioned my quality. 'Til the very end, he thought I was worth his friendship, dedication, life, and love. He wouldn’t have loved me if I was worthless, right?

I leaned down and, almost touching his ear with my lips, whispered, “Whenever you are ready, Starsk. I’ll wait for you.” He was worth every second of eternity.

Suddenly, I could feel when the warm and living body in my arms became Starsky again. I shuddered because I once again had the missing part of me that had me feeling so incomplete a moment before.

Starsky sighed and pushed me back slightly so he could see my eyes. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey yourself,” I choked back.

“We did it.” He touched my face.

“Yeah, we did.”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay.”

He was just looking at me, as if trying to memorize every line on my face.

“I missed you,” he said when he was finally satisfied with what he was seeing.

“Look who’s talking.” I reached for his hand and held into him, feeling the steady pulse under my fingers. “Ready to leave this place?”

“I kind of like it here.” He smiled.

I smiled back. Living felt _so_ good now.

He nodded and I helped him up. I looked at the stone – again laying on the pedestal and waiting for another who would dare to reach for it. And I remembered the look Starsky gave me when we were here few hours ago.

“Starsk?”

“Yes?” He stood next to me.

“When I touched the stone for the first time you looked at me as if you had never seen me before. What were you thinking?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I was just... relieved. That I wouldn’t have to worry about you anymore. That you were safe. I was happy.”

I smiled. I stepped behind him and pulled him to my chest, resting my chin on his shoulder. Now I was feeling the same thing he had been feeling hours ago.

“So? We're immortal, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Scary?”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes, content.

“Ready to rule the universe?” I felt his smile rather than saw it.

“I already have my universe safe in my arms. I don’t need another one.”

He laughed softly. “Eternity is a long time, buddy,” he said.

“Time flies in the right company.”

He breathed deeply and leaned back, resting his head on my shoulder. “What now?”

“I think I – will live.”

“You gotta be more specific.” He slipped out of my embrace and leaned against the pedestal, crossing his arms.

“Well, we have places to go, people to meet,” I explained. “Stars to visit.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nodded. “Let’s go and execute it.” He held his hand out and I took it.

Slowly we made our way toward the dark corridor that would take us to the exit.

“Thanks, Starsk,” I said, before we entered the corridor.

“Anytime, partner.”

 **THE END**


End file.
